


a measure of qualcatin hyper-mintextract

by gwmclintock88



Series: Pan Galactic Gargle Blaster - Skimmons Week 2015 [5]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Day 5 Prompt, F/F, Marvel universe History, Skimmons Week
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-02
Updated: 2015-10-02
Packaged: 2018-04-24 10:02:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4915234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gwmclintock88/pseuds/gwmclintock88
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>During WW2, the SRR sought items believed to be mystical or powerful, trying to beat Schmidt to them. Hired to bring a foreign doctor to some ruins, Skye lead them to one such item. She didn't expect to be entranced by the beautiful doctor, or to want more out of her life, but it seems meeting Dr. Jemma Simmons was the best thing that ever happened to her. </p><p>(Skimmons Week - Day 5 Prompt: Historical AU)</p>
            </blockquote>





	a measure of qualcatin hyper-mintextract

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so I stretched this prompt a bit by placing this in the Marvel Universe History. It may not be clear right away, but it will. I hope you enjoy it, and if I had more time, I might expand upon it and have ended it differently. But this needed to end and somehow this way seemed fitting.

            This had bad idea written all over it. How had she ever gotten talked into doing this? Oh, that’s right, food. Yes, she could live off what she found in the jungle, but the offer was too good. Plus well, whoever this lady was she was entranced.

            Enough so to trip over a root she would normally miss.

            “Are you alright?” Brown eyes and a kind smile stared down at her.

            “Yes.” She closed her eyes, praying for the ground to open her up. Pushing up off the dirt floor, she ignored the stings to her knees. “It came out of nowhere.”

            “Roots tend to do that,” the brunette said. “And are you sure you’re alright? We can rest if you need to.”

            “No. I’m fine, really,” she said. “And it’s just up ahead. Honest.”

            “Okay, but you will let me know if you need a break, right Skye?”

            “Of course Doctor Simmons.” She turned forward so the archaeologist couldn’t see her blush.

            Simmons came to her, asking for some help in reaching a set of ruins. Well, not her specifically, but Skye was the only one who knew how to get _inside_ safely. Not that Simmons knew that right away or anything, but after the third man tried to make inappropriate advances, Simmons shot him in the leg. Skye had been trying to sneak a drink behind the bar and nearly got caught because of the commotion the woman created.

            Skye approached her, offering to be her guide in exchange for what she thought was a fair amount. Simmons was skeptical at first, as was her traveling companion, Ms. May, but when after explaining some of the images from the ruins, she got their attention. Plus, a much better offer.

            Simmons was an archaeologist, looking for an item in the jungle. She was a little smaller than her, if that were possible, but she spoke in words Skye understood. Her skin was much lighter than hers, but her companion looked like her or at least a little. May was taller than both of them, but Skye knew she was strong, and very protective of Simmons after watching her dispatch the first two attempts to touch Simmons.

            The trip would take the better part of a week, so Simmons asked Skye to arrange for three weeks worth of supplies. She was surprised at the responsibility, but Ms. May privately indicated the request was a test. Skye planned on doing her best, and called in the few favors she’d collected as well as worked out several favorable trades in order to obtain the best prices. The result surprised Simmons, and maybe Ms. May though she wasn’t sure given the blank look on her face.

            Skye hitched her bag higher on her back. She glanced around, recalling the scene and letting the world speak to her. She held up her hand as she spotted the old tree. “We need to be careful.”

            “What?” Simmons stepped from behind her. Skye reached out, stopping her as a dart fly where she would have been.

            “That’s going to be more common.” Skye let go, smirking as Simmons blushed.

            May stepped out on her other side. “I warned you to be more cautious, Doctor.”

            “Yes, yes, I know, it’s just, we’re so close.” She turned to Skye, her face nearly touching hers.

            Skye glanced up at the trees. The sun barely peaked through, and it would be difficult to normally track the time without assistance. “I think so. If we push, we’ll definitely make it before nightfall. Just…step where I step.”

            People normally ignored her. She was a street urchin, an orphan left to fend on her own after the orphanage closed. But Simmons and May both followed the command. They stepped where she did, and knowing they were safe, it let her move a little quicker. Her strides lengthen, and while she wasn’t running, the swiftness of her movements let her take a slightly riskier route than she would have with them. But they kept up.

            The look on their faces as they stopped just outside the ruins made up for how exhausted she made them. Skye caught her breath watching Simmons’ take in the ruins. “I can’t believe it. It’s here. It’s truly here.”

            “We don’t know that yet,” May said, removing her bag. “We need to set up camp, and we can start first thing in the morning.”

            “But the othes-”

            May’s glare shut up Simmons. Skye wanted to ask, but the angry look on May’s face stopped the question before it fully formed. “Rest first, then exploration.”

            “Right. Of course,” Simmons said. She turned back to the ruins, clutching her hands to her chest. “It’s just…we’re here.”

            “Not quite,” May said. “Skye, can you start a fire?” She nodded, still watching Simmons. “Then I suggest you start. It will be getting dark soon.”

            Skye hurried to follow the command. She gathered some dry brush, enough for a decent sized fire, as well as a good bagful of edible fruits as she worked.  This area was too thick for travel, but certainly had enough plants for her to find some small sticks to use. She had to avoid a particularly mean looking monkey, but she found enough. When she returned, a tent had been put up, one that Simmons crawled out of.

            “Oh, you’re back. May said you knew how to start a fire?” Skye nodded, getting a glimpse of beauty as Simmons crawled all the way out of the tent. Her shirt droped low enough, providing a hint of the figure Skye knew her to carry. Her mouth grew dry and for a moment she forgot words.

            “Umm…” Skye shook her head, dropping it and hoping Simmons hadn’t caught her staring. “Yes, just…I can.”

            “Excellent,” Simmons said once she was fully standing. She clapped her hands. “I’ve done it in the past, but I tend to either make it too close to the tent or not large enough.”

            Skye nodded, getting to work. She kept her focus on the task, or tried to, but her eyes drifted to Simmons on their own accord. The archeologist made a book appear from somewhere, concentrating on whatever was written inside. She couldn’t read herself, but for someone to focus on it so intently while in the jungle, it must have been important.

            “Good job.” Skye turned from the small spark she managed to get into a steady flame. May stood over her shoulder, appearing from nowhere. “That should ward off any animals, at least for night.”

            “Only animals we have to worry about are snakes,” Skye said, poking the fire with a stick.

            “Snakes?” Simmons jumped, dropping her book to the dirt. She picked it back up with a shaky hand. “How-how big are they?”

            Skye glanced up at May before answering. The older women’s lips curled like a smile, but she wasn’t sure if that was the intent. Plus, she didn’t say anything, leaving her to fill in the blanks. “Not very big, but I mean, the big ones aren’t the issue.”

            “Okay, right then,” Simmons said, glancing around her. “No big ones. That’s good. I mean, we should be safe here. By the fire.” She moved around the fire to sit closer to the tent, the fire, and Skye.

            “Best start,” May said, removing a pot and pan from somewhere. Skye looked around, trying to figure out where these items kept coming from. Simmons still glanced around, now reading her book but looking up from the fire.

            “Oh, here,” Skye held out the small bag she filled with fruit.

            “These safe to eat?” May said, looking skeptical at the bag.

            Skye reached in and pulled the small, dark red fruit. She pulled off the leaves before tossing it into her mouth. An explosion of sweetness filled her mouth. She smiled around the bite. “Save the leaves. Ward from bugs.”

            “A fruit that repels bugs? Interesting,” Simmons said. She reached into the bag, pulling out another one. This didn’t have any leaves, but there were a bunch in there.

            “Need a lot of them.” Skye shrugged her shoulders. Some of the locals covered the ground with them in their houses. “But the fruit is supposed to help with sickness.”

            “Really?” Simmons’ eye brows rose as she stared at the ribbed fruit in her hand. “Fascinating.”

            “Try it,” Skye said, pushing Simmon’s hand that held the fruit. “It’s sweet. I promise.”

            “No, I trust you,” Simmons said with a smile. “But the findings – “

            “Mean nothing unless you try it.” May said without looking up from her work on something in the pan. It smelt divine, like the things Skye’d get from the local church during the Christmas festivals.

            “Right, of course,” Simmons said, tossing it in her mouth. Her eyes grew wide as she chewed. “These are amazing. What are they called?”

            “We call them pitianga,” Skye said. She sat down on a rock May must have set up.

            “Pitanga. Fascinating,” Simmons said. She pulled nother one out of the bag before picking up her book. She flipped to a page and removed a pencil from somewhere and began to write in it. “And how do you spell that?”

            Skye shrugged her shoulders, trying hard not to blush, but her ears felt warm anyway. She never had any schooling, or at least none that stuck. Not that she didn’t want to, but it wasn’t feasible.

            “I’ll sound it out,” Simons said without even looking up. She silently worked, as did May, leaving Skye with no one to talk to. It wasn’t anything new, but the novelty of having people who wanted to talk to her, even if they were using her, still hadn’t worn off.

            Looking over Simmons’ shoulder, she saw a picture of the fruit, along with several words. “What’s this one?” She pointed at the one Simmons just finished. The scribblings looked kind of pretty.

            “Oh, that’s -” Simmons turned to stare at her again, their faces even closer than last time. “You don’t know how to read?”

            Skye pulled back, shaking her head as she turned to look at the fire. “Sorry.”

            “No, don’t be sorry,” Simmons said. “I’m so used to it, I sometimes forget that other people didn’t have the same advantages as me.”

            “What’s a ‘advantage?’” Skye asked. She had to sound out the word, and it felt weird on her tongue. Not a bad weird, but definitely weird.

            “It means I had more than other people,” Simmons said, offering her a smile. “Which is why I’m here.”

            “Because you had an advantage?” Skye asked, glancing back at the temple. That was some weird word if it meant having to come here. She knew the ghost stories, and really the only reason she was here was because of the money, and Simmon’s asked.

            “Kind of,” Simmons said, pushing a hair back behind her ear. “It’s just…have you heard about the war? In Europe?”

            “Europe? Is that where you’re from?” Skye asked. She never traveled more than a day’s walk from the small town, and most of that was into the jungle.

            “Simmons,” May barked, drawing both of their attention. She then spoke in some odd way, making different sounds but they were familiar too. Simmons responded in kind, rolling her eyes, but she caught the words ‘Europe.’ From the sounds of the words, it seemed like Simmons was trying to make May feel better. Eventually, May returned to whatever she was doing with the pot to make it smell amazing.

            “Sorry, it’s just…I’m not supposed to talk about it with other people,” Simmons said, her face growing long and her eyes sad.

            “That’s okay,” Skye said, offering her a smile. “What were you saying?”

            “The language?” Skye nodded, thinking that was the right word for it. “English. We were speaking English just then.”

            “Oh,” Skye said, glancing at the book. “Is that in…English too?” Simmons nodded, smiling now again. “Can you…learn me?”

            “Teach you? Of course, I’d be delighted to,” Simmons said. She flipped to another page, writing down more scribbles and symbols. “A.” she said as she pointed at the first one.”

            “A.” Skye repeated, staring at it and trying to memorize what it looked like.

            “B,” Jemma pointed to the next scribble.

            “B.”

            This went on for most of the night, breaking only shortly for dinner of some type of meat May prepared. Skye stopped herself from having seconds, but Simmons poured her another bowl. These Englishmen (what Simmons called them) were very generous, giving her more than she usually received or could earn. By the time Simmons started to teach her some simple words in English, like ‘cat,’ ‘book,’ and ‘Jemma’ (her first name), the sun was starting to set.

            Skye unrolled the blanket they gave her, planning on sleeping near the fire. It wasn’t rain season, so hopefully she’d be okay out here. Still, definitely better night so far than most of hers had ever been.  “You don’t want to sleep in the tent?” Simmons said as she crouched at the front of it.

            “What?” Skye looked up, catching her brown eyes glowing in the still flickering flames. 

            Another weird word came from inside the tent, making Simmons rolled her eyes. “Good night.”

            “Night.” Skye watched her leave, finding the image staying with her as she closed her eyes. Yes, this was her best day ever in a long time.

            It didn’t rain that night, but it definitely was going to be hotter that day. Skye woke up early, gathering a little of the water that collected on the leaves during the night. She filled up a makeshift bowl made by another leave before returning.

            “There you are.” Simmons nearly ran into her. Skye barely managed not to spill anything of it. “I thought you left us here.”

            “No, just,” she held up the leaf-bowl to her. “Warm today. You need to drink.”

            “Oh.” Simmons glanced down at the bowl and then Skye. “Thank you.” She cupped Skye’s hands with hers. A spark of warmth filled her at the touch as she raised their hands to bring the bowl closer to her lips. After a few sips, Simmons pulled back, but didn’t drop their hands. “Can you pour it into one of your canteens?” Skye nodded, smiling at her.

            May appeared from the tent after Skye managed to get most of the night-water into one of the canteens. She raised an eyebrow at this, but said nothing to them as she removed pieces of bread from her bag and handed it to them. Skye tore into it, enjoying the softness and the complete difference from what she normally had.

            “Stay with me,” Skye said, once she had her bag back on her back.

            “Why? More traps?” Simmons asked, glancing at May.

            “Yes, and ghosts,” Skye said, marching toward her entrance. She found it by mistake, running from something in the jungle. Most people would go up top, but if what they wanted matched what she saw, then this was the best way.

            “Ghosts? I should say there is no such thing, but that’s why we’re out here,” Simmons muttered to herself.

            “You’re here for ghosts?” Skye nearly stopped walking.

            “No, just…we think this item might be important,” Simmons said. “We don’t know how, but ‘Hydra’ mustn’t get it.”

            “Hydra? What’s a hydra?” Skye asked. She grabbed a large stick by her entrance, broke it in two and removed a cloth they gave her to use for this. She held it back and May lit it from a lighter she was carrying. They entered the tunnel, using the torches to guide them.

            “It’s a –“

            “Nothing you need to worry about,” May interrupted.  Simmons gave her another sad look, but Skye understood, or she thought she did: They didn’t think she’d understand, but she was smart. A lot smarter than most people thought. She had to be to survive out here and even in the village. Just because she didn’t know their language didn’t mean she didn’t understand. Even their conversation in English told her something about this hydra. Whatever it was, it was bad.

            After walking a short way, Skye caught sight of one of the images she remembered. “Here.” She motioned her torch to it.

            “Fascinating,” Simmons said, stepping next to her. She removed her book, quickly drawing the images. She slipped into English, mumbling to herself, but whatever it was held her complete attention.

            Skye kept looking around, knowing the ghosts would be here soon. They weren’t actual ghosts, just feelings of something not right. Not like the other spirits that haunted the jungle. Again, she didn’t know how else to explain it and if she tried, she knew Simmons would give her an odd, but bad look. Instead, she chose to keep watch. They weren’t far enough inside to feel it, but the ghosts were coming closer.

            “It’s further inside?” Simmons asked, finally done drawing.

            “Yes, but we must hurry,” Skye said. She started to walk faster and further down the tunnel. The bad feelings settled inside of her, growing larger as she got closer.

            “Why?” May asked.

            “Ghosts,” Skye said looking over her shoulder as walked. She guided them past the traps she remembered, pausing and testing the ones she didn’t. Eventually, they came to the room.

            The torches barely filled it, and the last time she was here was at night. Then, the entire room glowed under the moon, letting her see the item that matched Simmons’ drawing. She’d been here with others before, people she knew from the village. They wanted to see it too, thinking they could maybe sell the item.

            “Don’t touch it,” Skye warned as they got closer to it.

            “What? We need to take it out of here,” Simmons said, stopping right at the edge of the stone base where the shiny rock sat.

            “It makes ghosts,” Skye said, glaring at it. It killed her friends, the ones who she came out here with. The ones who believed her when she talked about ghosts.

            “Then we’ll definitely be taking it.” A new voice filled the chamber. Skye spun around to see an older man with a creepy smile staring at it. A younger man stepped in behind him. The older man barked something that sounded like it was in language Simmons spoke.

Everyone started talking in the language, leaving Skye clueless to what was being said. But she knew the emotions. Simmons and May were furious, and May managed to pull a gun from somewhere. The two men had ones too, with the younger one who kept trying to smile at her moving closer to the stone.

            “No!” Skye screamed as he reached out for it. “You mustn’t touch it.”

            It was too late. The young man’s hand grasped the shiny rock. Skye watched by torchlight as the ghosts reached out, darkening the man’s hand. He screamed loudly as Skye backed away. Shadows kept crawling, leaving cracks in the blackened skin. The ghosts kept working, striking him for taking what was theirs. She felt something hit her side, knocking herself off her feet.

            Her torch fell from her hands, but arms held her own as loud gunshots rang out through the chamber. They echoed over the dead man’s screams.

            “The ghosts have him,” Skye whispered. She made the symbol of the cross, the one the nuns taught her. She may not believe completely, but she didn’t want the ghosts to take her too.

            “It’ll be okay,” Simmons said. “Can it be touched safely?”

            “I…” She wanted to tell her the truth, of how she picked it back up after it killed her friends. She placed it back on the stone, hoping to appease the ghosts.  More gunshots rang out, and Simmons sat up, firing her own gun at the other man.

            Skye crawled forward, moving to the shiny rock where it still was in the dead man’s hands. Simmons yelled out for her, but she ignored it. She moved as quickly as she could, crawling along the stone to get to the rock and the dead man. A piece of ground burst besides her as she moved but she had to get the rock back up there. It might stop the ghosts.

            She pried the rock from the man’s crumbling fingers. It began to glow under her touch, growing warm like it had before. She watched designs grow from the center of the rock. The ghosts must have known her intentions to put it back.

            The sound of gun fire stopped. Skye looked up to see the man, holding the gun against Simmons. May wasn’t there, and for a moment she thought the ghosts got her before he man started to speak.

            “Skye, it’s okay,” Simmons said. She grunted as the man pulled her closer. “Don’t give him the stone.”

            The man said something in English, glaring and waving the gun at her. Skye glared back.

            “I won’t.” She tried to stay strong, holding the ghosts at bay. The man moved his gun to Simmons’ side.

            “Don’t give it to him,” Simmons said, “he’s with hydra.”

            “The bad people,” Skye said, not taking her eyes off the gun. The man shuffled toward her with Simmons.

            “Yes, the bad people. They can’t get their hands on the Diviner,” Simmons said. She kept struggling against the man’s hands but Skye knew he was too strong. “Garrett will just give it to Hydra.”

            The man snapped at Simmons before pointing the gun at Skye.

            “Will he kill me?” Skye asked, looking down at the stone.

            “Not if you run,” Simmons said, meeting her eyes, pleading with her to listen.

            “Will he kill you?”

            Simmons paused, sorrow etched on her face. “Yes.”

            “Even if I give it to him?”

            “Yes.”

            The man was close enough to reach out and take it. The shiny rock still had the drawings glowing on it, as she turned it in her hands, she felt the ghosts fill her. No, not ghosts. Ghosts didn’t care if these people died. They just wanted their rock. Simmons wanted to know about it, to understand it. That was better.

            Skye looked up, holding out the rock. Simmons pleaded with her, begging in the language she couldn’t understand. A gloved hand reached for it, and she took her chance.

            Skye lunged forward, pressing the stone against the man’s neck. He dropped Simmons at her movement. He raised his gun but it was too late. She willed the ghosts to be released, watching them blacken his skin. A shot rang out and she stumbled backward with the rock still in her hands. Her stomach burned btu she held onto the rock as she felt.

            The torchlights began to die and Simmons filled her eyes instead. She kept saying something but it seemed so far away. She tried to smile, knowing that when she did, Simmons smiled too. She raised her heavy hand, brushing her fingers against the Simmons’s wet face as the world got blacker and darker. She felt someone holding her, whispering words in the distance. Her last thought as the pain in her side filled her and the cold took her was how beautiful Simmons, sipping water from her hands, how those hands held her, like they were right now.

**I0I**

“Report.”

            “Colonel, we were unable to successfully retrieve the item. What Schmidt called the Diviner,” Jemma said, staring ahead at the map on the wall. The American Colonel looked up at her, glaring as she stood still. She handed him the report and he had already been through it twice, but it seems he still required a verbal accounting. 

            “Did HYDRA get there first?” He asked.

            “No sir, the item was not there,” she said, keeping her eyes on the map. Captain America and his Howling Commandos certainly made advances while she had been away. She hoped it would be enough, given her failure. 

            The colonel was silent, but Jemma held her ground. She wouldn’t blink, she wouldn’t move, she wouldn’t cry. Not until she was dismissed.

            “But HYDRA was there,” Colonel Phillips said. “Why were they there if there was nothing for you to get?”

            “They were probably following the same intel as we were, sir,” Jemma said. “We did manage to find out what the item could do, but it was long gone by the time we got there.”

            Colonel glanced down at her report, glaring at the written words. Jemma wanted to glare at them, demand the fiction change, but it had to be this way. “I suppose you didn’t find any leads?”

            “Not at the moment, but I have several pages of information I still need to decode before I can give you a better estimate,” Jemma admitted truthful. There were more answers. “The man, Garrett, did said they were looking for another one before he died”

            “Yes, and if it can do what you say it can, then we need to find it, wherever they are.” Philips tapped the pages, and glanced up at the map. “Doctor Simmons, you’re dismissed.”

            “Thank you sir,” she said, moving to the door.

            “And Doctor Simmons, your guide…”

            “Skye?” She tried to not let the pain show on her face. She tried not to think about the blood on her hands.

            “Yes, she didn’t make it either?” Jemma shook thought of the smile on Skye’s lips as she learned to read, learning how to say her name in English.  Of how sure her feet were as they moved through the jungle and the ruins. How beautiful she was and how much Jemma wanted to tell her, to kiss her. She thought of how she dove at Garret, shoving the Diviner against his neck, of how he managed to get off one round before succumbing to its effects. She thought of Skye staring up at her, not pleading to save her, but looking at her in awe.

            She thought of everything she could have had and everything that might have been. It all stayed at that damn place with the Diviner.

            “No, sir. She didn’t.”

           

**Author's Note:**

> I own nothing, which is sad, but I get to play in their world, which is good. The Season 2 Finale definitely happened, which is sad, but it helped build this wonderful story, which is good.
> 
> Thank you for reading. Good night, and good luck.


End file.
